


let my lens capture your beauty

by englandziam



Series: christmas drabbles [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, ice skating and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 15:32:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2778329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandziam/pseuds/englandziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Liam go ice skating</p>
            </blockquote>





	let my lens capture your beauty

**Author's Note:**

> just some more utterly ridiculous fluff for you :)

liam whines at the expected “no _fucking_ way, liam,” hissed from zayn’s lips, smile deflating as he curls himself around zayn and nuzzles his disappointment into zayn’s neck.

“please?” liam questions quietly and zayn rolls his eyes as several kisses are sprinkled across his jaw, mouth wet as liam’s moulds against his own.

“no,” zayn says, frown deep as liam wraps both legs around either side of zayn’s waist, both pressed to the sofa and zayn pinned beneath liam.

“please, baby,” liam mumbles and clings his palms to zayn’s cheeks, much to zayn’s annoyance.

“i’m not fucking ice skating, babe,” zayn sighs unhappily and it’s ridiculous how the guilt washes over him when liam pushes out his lower lip and pouts pathetically.

“why not?”

“it’s cold and icy outside and i’d rather be in here tucked up with you by the fire, if i’m honest.”

liam’s pout wavers and his lips threaten to slip into a smile, though zayn watches with a roll of his eyes as liam wipes the expression and presses his lips back into a pout.

“i wanna go out,” liam whines.

zayn shakes his head and curves his fingers around liam’s jaw. “i love you, babe.”

“that doesn’t get you out of this, you miserable twat,” liam huffs and climbs off of zayn, reappearing in the living room several moments later with his phone pressed to his ear, the dialling sound ringing.

“who are you calling?” zayn wonders aloud, brow furrowing when liam shakes his head and splays himself across zayn’s lap.

“hey, harry,” he smiles softly and zayn hears the raspy voice from the other end of the line. “do you wanna come ice skating with me?” he asks and zayn whines, lips puckering into a pout matching Liam’s.

“great!” liam says a little too loudly and zayn’s frown deepens. laughter covers whatever harry is saying and zayn raises his head from the sofa to listen in. “yes i’ll hold your hand, babe,” liam chuckles and moves from zayn’s reach when he attempts to take the phone from his hold. “only if you kiss me beneath the mistletoe?”

zayn scowls, tight on liam’s heel as he follows him into the bedroom and watches as liam sits on the bed. it’s completely and utterly stupid that he feels jealousy creep beneath his skin, but he can’t help the way his cheeks flush a light pink and his blood boils, slightly. zayn presses himself into liam’s lap, fingers fumbling with the buttons to his shirt while lips leave sloppy kisses against his chest.

he peels the phone from liam’s ear and presses it to his own, speaking a quiet “liam’s busy this evening, i’m afraid,” before hanging up and tossing Liam’s phone gently to the floor.

“that was rude,” liam murmurs a little breathlessly as zayn’s fingers push beneath the waistband of his jeans and brush ever so slightly over his cock. “you’re a twat,” he says and slaps at zayn’s hands, not that zayn complies, and continues to wrap his hand around liam’s dick.

“i hate you,” liam says into zayn’s ear, cursing and continuing to throw insults at zayn as he gets him off.

zayn’s lips trickle kisses against liam’s neck, tongue splayed against the marks he’s biting into liam’s flesh. “i’m the only one who kisses you,” zayn says between kisses and liam rolls his eyes as he whines a little breathlessly at zayn’s thumb sliding over the slit of his cock.

“babe?” liam asks quietly when sweat creeps up his neck and he’s panting with a lazy smile while zayn cleans him up. “come ice skating with me?”

 

//

 

“if i break my neck because of this, i’m going to kill you,” zayn sighs when liam’s bent down in front of him, tying his laces.

“have fun trying to kill me with a broken neck, babe,” liam looks up with a smirk which zayn clips him around the head with in response.

“you better give me a good shag later,” zayn mumbles into liam’s ear when he hoists him up, liam smiling ecstatically as he brushes his lips across zayn’s cheek and murmurs a soft, “course, love. in the shower, or on the sofa in your art room…hm, perhaps i’ll bend you over the kitchen counter—”

and zayn whines a quiet “ _leeyum_ ,” into his neck and lets liam pull him towards the ice rink.

it turns out that zayn is actually pretty decent at skating, and, much to zayn’s delight and amusement, liam is absolutely crap.

it takes several falls and gentle whispers of encouragement from zayn — “no, babe, _bend_ your knees,” “liam, for fucks sake just hold my bloody hand,” — until liam gets the hang of it and shakily follows in zayn’s lead, fingers tangled as zayn strides ahead. liam rolls his eyes and chuckles as zayn darts in front and then behind him, sneaks under his arm and shows off by spinning around on the ice.

“this is proper christmassy, isn’t it?” liam grins widely as they take a break at the side of the rink, perched on a bench with styrofoam cups filled with coffee pressed into their hands while liam snaps pictures of zayn (that have him blushing and hiding, rather cutely in liam’s opinion, behind his mittens) and takes selfies of the two that he plans to send to his mum later on.

“yeah, babe,” zayn nods and leans his head onto liam’s shoulder, pressing his cheeks into the warmth of liam’s scarf. “even though i think the cold is freezing my fucking toes off and i’ve never seen your nose so red in all the years i’ve known you, this is actually pretty fun.”

liam snorts and takes a sip of his coffee, lips burying into zayn’s hair. “told you so, love.”

“and, on top of this, i’m getting fucked tonight, yeah?” zayn grins and watches fondly as liam’s eyes crinkle as a smile lights up his face. “doesn’t get much better than this, li.”

“you’re getting fucked by _me_ , zayn. _that_ is where it does not get any better,” liam teases into zayn’s hair. zayn’s lips spill laughter as he huddles closer to liam for warmth.

he watches silently with a fond smile as liam snaps more pictures, some of the ice rink and the christmas tree in the centre, the lights flickering daintily wrapped in the trees, and several more of zayn when liam thinks he’s not looking.

later, when liam’s managed to injure his ankle from falling onto the ice and zayn made him feel better with blowjobs (just before liam fucked him into the mattress), he finds a folder on liam’s phone labelled _mine_ — full of the pictures he’s discreetly (and not so discreetly) taken of zayn over the years.

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment telling me what you think :)
> 
> twitter.com/englandziam


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